


Adventures in Child Rearing: The Jedi Master and Clone Captain Edition

by MissFit



Series: A Song of Jedi and Sith [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-28 00:20:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13259661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissFit/pseuds/MissFit
Summary: Bronn, former Clone Captain of the 501st, just wants to teach Sansa how to defend herself.Sansa, six-year-old Jedi youngling, just wants to play Rescue the Princess.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fun one-shot I created to go with my series A Song of Sith and Jedi! I hope you enjoy!  
> General Disclaimer: I am not Martin, Lucas, or Filoni

 

 

“I don’t want to play Clone Troopers and Separatists anymore!” Sansa cried, stomping her foot.

Bronn sighed, rubbing his hand down his face in agitation. He had been the Captain of the 501st Legion, one of the most respected units in the Galactic Republic. Under the direction of Jedi Master Tyrion Waters, the unit had been on the front lines for most major battles during the Clone Wars and had come away victorious from all but one. He had fought droids, monsters, and Sith warriors. Why did it feel, then, that he was about to be defeated by a six-year-old human girl that he could lift with one arm?

“Good soldiers follow orders. Now—”

“But I’m not a solider! I’m a Jedi!” Sansa cried.

“They follow orders as well. Now—”

“But Uncle Bronn!” Sansa cried dramatically. “This. Is. So. Boring!” Sansa punctuated each word, throwing herself back into the snow on the last one. A storm had just passed through the day before, and her little body sunk down about a foot before stopping.

“You’re getting your clothes wet.” Bronn pointed out.

Sansa was wearing a thick blue coat with fur trim around the hood, that Bronn had insisted she keep up while they were outside, and blue pants that she had tucked into her boots. While Sansa normally preferred mittens, she had been forced to wear regular gloves so that she could properly work her blaster. Bronn had bought for her the last time he was in town, and had added some necessary safety mechanisms to it so that Sansa didn’t accidently hurt herself, or him, while they were practicing.

“Does that mean we have to go inside to dry off?” Sansa said, sitting up excitedly.

Bronn sighed. He had hoped that turning target practice into a game would keep Sansa’s interest for longer then five minutes. While it had worked, the novelty had worn off after an hour.

“All right Sansa, we can go inside now.” Bronn said, defeated.

_If only my brother’s could see me now._

 As a clone he was born for fighting and standing his ground, but he just couldn’t help himself when it came to making Sansa happy. Due to his genetic make-up, it was impossible for Bronn to have children. Having helped to raise Sansa since infancy, the clone found himself thinking of her as a daughter more often then not. He knew that Tyrion felt the same way, the two having spoken to each other about the topic.

The little red head gave out a whoop as she started to get up and out of the snow. Sansa gave him her blaster as she stood, handle first like he had taught her. Making sure that it was powered down, Bronn put the blaster on the hip opposite of his own. Taking Sansa’s hand, they began to trudge down the mountain and back to their home.

“Let’s play a game while we go down!” Sansa suggested happily as she skipped next to him.

“I thought you were tired of games.” Bronn observed.

Sansa wrinkled her nose in disgust. “That game. I don’t like shooting.”

“I know you don’t.” Bronn squeezed her hand. “The world is dangerous Sansa. Who keeps you safe?”

“I do!” Sansa said with gusto.

“That’s right. We have to keep practicing so that you can always be safe.” Sansa shook her head to let him know she understood.

To Bronn’s dismay, he and Tyrion had found that Sansa was not a natural born fighter as she grew older and began to train with them. While he wanted to shelter her from all that could harm her, Bronn knew that it was impossible. Sansa would have to learn how to defend herself, even though it went against her nature to do so. Yes, the force and her lightsaber would serve her well, but there was no such thing as being too prepared for danger. Bronn was determined to teach her everything he knew from being a soldier while Tyrion taught her how to be a Jedi.

“Can we still play the game though?” Sansa looked up at him, her blue eyes pleading.

Bronn’s resolve crumbled. He secretly suspected that Tyrion made Sansa give him that look so that he could get out parental responsibilities that he didn’t like.

“Of course we can. What is the game?”

“Save the princess!” Sansa shouted.

“Roger that. How do we play?”

Sansa stopped walking and looked up at Bronn, her demeanor becoming serious. “I am the princess, and you are my rescuer. The evil White Walkers are trying to capture me, and we have to get down the mountain and back to my palace before they come.”

Bronn let out a gasp, turning his body and staring into the trees. He brought his hand above his eyes for full effect.

“Uncle Bronn? What’s—”

“Hurry Princess Sansa!” Bronn cried, grabbing onto her hand. “I can see the White Walkers out in the distance! We must make it down the mountain as fast as we can.”

Squealing, Sansa took off running into the snow, pulling Bronn with her.

“Quick! I hear the sound of laser fire!” Bronn threw his body to the side, falling stomach first into the snow.

“Don’t worry good sir! I will protect you!” Sansa cried. Using a branch next to her, Sansa picked it up and began to use it as a lightsaber.

“Thank you, Princess!” Bronn cried. Though it was just a game, he was proud to see that Sansa’s form was improving.

“They have fallen back into the tree-line! We must hurry!”

Brushing off the snow, Bronn stood and began to run with Sansa down the mountain.

“Oh no!” Sansa squealed. “I’ve been shot!” She fell down dramatically and rolled around in the snow for good measure.

_Well this took a turn…_

“Princess!” Bronn cried.

“Quick! There is no time for bacta patches! You must carry me!” Sansa brought her arms around his neck. Scooping her up, Bronn took off at a quicker pace.

“More laser fire!” Sansa squirmed in his arms until she was able to use her stick to defend them from attack. “You’ll never catch us you bastards!”

Bronn stifled his laughter. He and Tyrion should probably start watching the words they used around her.

“We are almost there, Princess! Just a little bit longer!” Bronn raced through the village, not caring that Folkians were openly staring at him and Sansa like they were crazy.

Sansa waved to one of her friends as they passed by her house. “Hello Alys! We are playing Princess Sansa!”

The little girl waved back to her then continued with her chores.

“Hurry Bronn! They are almost to us!”

Picking up his speed, Bronn sprinted the last few feet to their little apartment. Breathing heavily, Bronn set Sansa down in front of their door.

“Inside!” Sansa screamed. She opened the door, then slammed it once he was in. Looking up at Bronn, Sansa broke into peals of laughter.

“Uncle Bronn, you were so fast! That was the best game ever! Can we play again? Pleasepleaseplease?” Sansa said in a rush. She pulled down her hood, causing her hair to go every which way.

“What game is this?” Tyrion said coming through the door that connected their apartments.

A year after coming to Wall, they had built doors into the connecting walls of each of their homes. After Nan died, they had blown out one of the wall’s entirely, turning her and Tyrion’s apartment into a small home for Sansa and himself. Bronn loved Sansa, and he liked Tyrion, but he was happy that he still lived alone. The little girl could be a handful sometimes.

Sansa ran to her master and gave him a hug. “Only the best game ever invented!”

“I’m excited to hear about it.” Sansa’s face lit up as she looked at him. They were the same height now, and Bronn was sure she would be taller then Tyrion soon.

Sansa opened her mouth to speak, but Tyrion put his hand up to stop her. “I’m excited to hear about it, after dinner.” Her face fell. “It is time for your meditation exercises. Come along.” Tyrion began to guide her to the door.

“But Master Tyrion!” Bronn smiled, knowing what was about to happen next. “Meditation. Is. So. Boring.” Sansa flung her arms out in despair.

“I agree, but it is also necessary.” Tyrion said as they made their way back into the apartment.

Half an hour later, Bronn was not surprised to hear laughter coming from the adjacent home. He wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn he heard Tyrion call out for “Princess Sansa”.


	2. The Problem With Lightsabers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One good thing about having the flu? Lots of writing time!
> 
> Thank you all for your praise for the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one just as much. 
> 
> General Disclaimer: I am not Martin, Lucas, or Filoni

The Problem With Lightsabers

 

Bronn smiled to himself as he added just a pinch more flour to the meiloorun cake he was making. Today was a big day for Sansa, and he wanted to surprise her with her favorite cake to celebrate.

Sansa had celebrated her seventh nameday last week. After two years of training with wooden staffs, Tyrion had decided that it was now time for Sansa to train with a real lightsaber. Sansa’s eyes had grown wide in excitement as Tyrion told her that he would be taking her to the Jedi Temple on Winterfell after their morning meal so that she could receive a kyber saber crystal. Not to be outdone, Bronn had collected a few pieces of scrap metal and wood from a Brylark tree that she could use to create the hilt for her blade. Sansa was so excited that she had leapt out of her bed to hug them, accidently calling on the force to help her. Both Tyrion and Bronn had fallen back onto the floor when she had thrown her arms around them. Sansa had started to apologize, thinking she had hurt them, but they had simply laughed it off.

The excursion had taken most of the day, and Bronn had started to get antsy when it turned dark and they still hadn’t come home. Ready to take his own ship to Winterfell to make sure they hadn’t been caught, Bronn had been relieved when Sansa burst through the door with a huge smile on her face. Her cheeks and hands were dirty, and there were a few pieces of clothing that had torn, but in her tiny hands was a small kyber saber crystal. She had immediately grabbed the box of building supplies that Bronn had gotten her and locked herself in her room. She came out an hour later, glowing with pride as she presented her lightsaber to Tyrion and Bronn.

The hilt was beautiful and reminded Bronn of Sansa. The middle was made of smooth silver metal, with a slim piece of wood detailing going up the side. The bottom and top were also made of wood with metal accents, and a power button that she painted red. She had drilled a tiny hole through the bottom piece of wood, slipping a piece of string through with three small beads so that she could clip the weapon into her belt easier. Bronn would never forget the look on her face when she had pressed the button, the purple lightsaber humming to life and enveloping her in a surreal glow.

Sansa had gone to bed without issue that night, excited to wake up early and train with her very own lightsaber. Unfortunately, a severe storm had rolled in, leaving their tiny village in white out conditions.  Tyrion hadn’t wanted her to damage the house her first time using a lightsaber, so the training had been put on hold until the weather had cleared. Sansa had taken the news stoically, but Bronn could see the tears she was trying to hold back while Tyrion told her the news. Taking her lightsaber, Bronn asked her if she would like to learn wood carving while it snowed so that she could add some detail to the hilt. Sansa face had lit up immediately, and after two days of practice Sansa was ready to use her new skill on her lightsaber. With Bronn’s help on the design, Sansa carved the very flower she had been named after on the bottom of her hilt.

Hearing the front door open, Bronn wiped his hands on his apron and made his way to front room.

“How was your big—omph!” Bronn let out a gust of air as Sansa threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in his stomach.

“I will never be beautiful again!” She sobbed as fat tears ran down her cheeks.

“Huh?” Bronn asked, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

Somehow, Sansa managed to cry even harder, her whole body shaking with the sobs.

“I. Will. Never. Be. Beautiful. AGAIN!” She screamed, pulling at her hair.

_Her hair… Wasn’t it longer a few hours ago? And one length?_

Before he had a chance to continue with his line of thought, Tyrion entered through the still open door. “Well, the good news is that Sansa has definitely mastered using the force to help enhance her physical abilities. I could barely keep up with her while she ran home.” He said calmly, closing the door behind him.

“I’m assuming there is also bad news?” Bronn asked, looking down at Sansa’s hair again. The young girl was inconsolable, and his apron was now drenched in her tears. Peeling her arms off him, Bronn scooped her up and carried her over to his one couch. Sitting down, he placed Sansa onto his lap while rocking her back and forth.

“Well… You see, I have short hair. Sansa has long hair. It never occurred to me that she would need to pull it back to avoid the risk of it coming into contact with the blade. We were practicing evasion techniques, one thing led to another and…” Tyrion made a chopping motion with his hand.

Sansa leaned into Bronn’s chest, babbling incoherently. Sighing, Bronn looked down to take in the damage. While one side still hung down to her waist, the other looked like it had been through a knife fight. The shortest pieces were only a couple of inches from her scalp, while the rest was varying lengths until it stopped at her shoulders. There was nothing they could do but cut off the rest to even it out.

“Sh, Sansa. Just calm down. Everything will be all right.” Bronn shushed her. Sansa’s cries had been replaced with hiccups, and she was clutching her lightsaber to her chest for dear life.

“I tried to tell her that Jedi don’t believe in things like vanity, but it only made it worse.” Tyrion said lamely.

_Big surprise,_ Bronn thought with a roll of his eyes.

“Of course it didn’t. Sansa is seven.” Bronn reprimanded him.

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “Still, the ways of the Jedi—”

“Don’t even start with that bull shit. We both know you didn’t always agree with the Jedi.”

“Am I not a Jedi anymore because I like having long hair?” Sansa squeaked out. She had her head down, and Bronn was sure there was a look of shame on her face. Sansa was always trying to please people to make them happy, and he could only imagine how she must be feeling if she thought Tyrion was disappointed in her.

“No, Sansa. You can be a Jedi no matter what your hair length is. I shouldn’t have said that. I hoped it would comfort you, but I was wrong.” Tyrion placed a hand on her shoulder. “We can work on that principle later, all right?”

Sansa gave him a weak nod before replacing her head on Bronn’s chest.

“But… what about my hair?” She asked, fiddling with the beads on her lightsaber’s chain.

“We will have to cut the rest of it off to try and even it out.” Bronn said bluntly. There was no way to soften that blow.

Sansa took in a shuddering breath. “Will you still think I’m pretty with short hair?” She whispered.

“Sansa Snow,” Bronn started, “I will always think you are pretty. But, it doesn’t matter what Tyrion or I think. It matters what you think.”

“I…” Sansa trailed off, looking at Tyrion. Bronn could see that she was afraid of being called vain again, and held her tongue.

“Sansa, what do you think makes someone pretty?” Tyrion asked.

“Well, I think they have to be kind to everyone, no matter who they are. They should always help other people, and not be afraid to stick up to bullies.”

Tyrion shook his head in agreement. “I see. That is very interesting.” He said, rubbing his chin.

“How come?”

“Out of everything you just said, you didn’t once mention hair.”

Sansa’s eyes lit up and she gave a soft gasp. “I didn’t!” She cried.

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because being pretty is about what is in here.” Sansa said, pointing to her heart.

“That’s right, my Padawan. It is okay for us to want to keep a neat appearance, but we should never focus so much on our looks that we forget about what is inside of us.”

Tyrion patted Sansa’s head. “Is it all right if we cut your hair?” He asked with a gentle smile.

“Yes…but is it also okay if I am still sad about it?” Sansa asked, her lower lip quivering just a bit.

“Of course Sansa.” Bronn replied. “Also, I think it is time for Tyrion to get a trim as well. What do you say we have a hair cutting party?”

Sansa started to giggle. “But Uncle Bronn, you don’t have any hair.”

Bronn took his hand and placed it on top of his smooth, shaven head. “Hey! I could if I wanted to!” He said with mock hurt.

Sansa just giggled louder until the timer went off. Running into the kitchen, she squealed in delight as the smell of meiloorun’s filled the room.

“Oh thank you Uncle Bronn!” Sansa danced on her toes, her previous despair forgotten. “These smell delicious!”

“Of course! Anything for our Princess Sansa.” He said, ruffling her hair.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for Sansa's lightsaber comes from the wonderful Cinnamon_Girl, who has created some fan art for the original story. She drew Sansa's lightsaber in one of the sketches, and I loved it so much I just had to use it. I will be posting the tags for the fanart on the next chapter of A Song For Jedi and Sith. If you don't want to wait that long, head down to the comments section of Chapter 14 and you will find the links in her comment. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and feel free to comment if you like. Have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Bronn never had a chance, did he?
> 
> Comment if you like and thanks for reading!


End file.
